Right Now
Sometimes I fall, I fall down and away and away from everything.
It hurts but I sink my teeth in my hands and my hands in the ground and everything shakes and then I'm okay. Not good okay, but I'm not hurting or falling just bleeding so it's an alright okay.
My teeth stopped leaving marks in my skin, but I see my finger prints in their skin, HER skin, the marks angry black, passionate red and sickly green. The shade of green made me feel like shit, so I'd roll her over and keep going and ignore her if she complained my time was up.
Sometimes I can't tell who I'm fucking until I close my eyes and just feel.
"I hate you."
I can't see right anymore, my eyes lie, like snakes and women.
Sometimes I hurt so much, and I feel like that boy inside a man inside a pool, with my insides twisted and torn but no one sees them like his.
I taste bile.
I kiss her, him, it, them; I kiss hard and rough and cry when I bleed and cry when they bleed even if they don't care.
Especially when they don't care, it's so sad when they don't care.
"Shut up."
I can't hit her, I let him hit me, beat my chest, beat me off, and sometimes when I hurt I dig my hands in but I wake up with my hands in my pants and blood on my lips and I don't remember why.
My tongue is curled and withered and sore and I want to cry but she cries first and she hits me away, this time it hurts and I break and I crumble and I cry too. She takes a fistful of my hair out, leaves a bloody patch, and smears it down my chest, licking it away and gagging at the taste.
"It doesn't hurt."
Then she screams like a cat, like a body who still owns a voice box, and that hurts, that kills me and I can see blood but I can't taste it.
My knuckles are white and my cheeks are red and my chest is blue and my feet are black from walking away and running home.
"Fuck you."
I would, but I can't, and if I could, it'd be over and I'd leave you alone; I'd stop fucking you sore and fucking him angry and fucking them over and over and over again.
A lonely smile of broken teeth shines and I can't help but wince, look down to my fist, it's moving on it's own now, over my hot hot crotch to his soft voice.
I jump back, suddenly burned and shout and kick and then I'm down, he's on top of me and I moan and writher, my hands grabbing at him but he looks disgusted and kicks me again and again and again and I feel and I know a snap of bone.
"This feels wrong."